Chapter Text
[Chapter One]
Several days after the ship incident...
"Fuzz, are you dozing off?"
Remmy's body slowly slid forwards, inch by inch, out of the easy chair. He pressed a hoof against his forehead as he blankly stared at the two doors before him. His mind in a haze, the ram's eyes drifted over to the adjacent window. The dark horizon proved that, sure enough, he'd drifted off into a late night stupor after all the BugBurga. Fortunately, gravity did most of the work as Remmy let the last of his limbs slide out of the chair. Crumpled flat on the floor like a murder victim, the ram glanced along the walls of the little side room and tried to gather his thoughts.
"Hello?"
Remmy's mind flashed back over the past few days as he gripped a cheap metal shelf; the ram gradually lifted himself up onto his hooves. After bonding, for lack of a better word, while the Pack Street vacation fell apart, he had a serious date with Anneke— complete with a long trip to the movies and fancy flowers, stale relationship-type things that the eager predator oddly appreciated. After two days of constantly hanging out, the aardwolf twins' apartment had become a second home.
A bit of scuffling sounded off outside of the little room where the ram stood. He rubbed a hoof around his face as his legs brushed up against a few empty soda cans. Despite the dusty smell and the stains of God-knows-what glowing across the moonlight-filled sky-light, the tiny space felt comfortable enough— he shouldn't have been surprised that his mind wandered.
"Forget moving all of that stuff out of that hidey-hole, seriously. We've got the rest of our lives for that. But—" Anneke spat out that 'b' like a piece of rotten fish. "We've got less than half an hour before Avo and what's-her-face expect us. If I were Betty, I'd be kicking these doors down yelling 'Time to run, wool-for-brains', you know? Instead, I'm waiting for you to pop out on your own, as if you didn't forget the damn thing."
"The 'thing', okay," Remmy muttered. He mentally asked himself if Anneke could be any more vague.
"The party! At the flophouse, with all of the hyenas!"
"Right," he flatly said.
"Right!"
Remmy suddenly recalled that he'd shimmied himself into the two-door closet to move something important. Whatever hustle Charlie had brought Wolter in on last Thursday had paid off in spades. Both predators had snatched up a bunch of appliances. Remmy idly stepped to the corner, nearly tripping over a power cord, and he finally remembered: the gigantic air purifier beside him had to go somewhere more permanent.
"Just, hey, hold on," the ram murmured, raising his voice a bit. He fumbled around in his shorts' pockets, feeling like he was missing something. He let the processed air— laced with a warm scent of vanilla from the big, grey contraption— flow across his face. Meanwhile, the aardwolf from the other side of the doors banged again.
She immediately let out a loud, snickering sound. "You jerking off in there? Fuzz, come on, I didn't leave you alone for that long! Is getting drained twice a day not enough for you?"
"Look, I'm fine," Remmy remarked, pulling his shorts up a bit, "and I'm coming! Geez!"
Thankfully, Anneke's voice still had its typical light, playful edge. "You're not expecting me to say 'in more ways than one', are you?" If it were any other mammal pulling those lines on him, Remmy thought, he would've thrown a crumpled-up soda can at the doors.
"It's... whatever," Remmy muttered. He'd felt his keys, wallet, and the rest all in their proper places. He took a step and suddenly noticed his reflection on the side of the purifier.
His shirt was nowhere to be found. He scanned the dusty-looking shelves and tiny stacks of boxes against the closet's walls. He remembered having it on when he stuffed himself with as much BugBurga as he could. The ram had way more than usual, but a once-a-mouth deal was a once-a-month deal.
He remembered staying fully dressed when the sun set. Walking back to the twins' apartment, Anneke had stopped to share goodness-knows-what with Charlie in the nearby alley. Remmy had passed on the fox's little yellow pills, of course, but the fried chemical overload in the fast food was more than enough to make him collapse a few minutes later, regardless.
"Wait," Anneke murmured, bonking the doors yet again but then scuffling about with something, "I... huh..."
"Hey, uh, honey?"
"Yes," Anneke replied, comically lightening her voice to a whisper, "my honey?"
Remmy still hadn't found a stereotypical 'cute relationship name' to use for Anneke. He tended to cycle through four or five with only slight success. Still, he shouldn't have expected any different; they all came from those cheesy soap operas that his weird aunt had always watched when she babysat him growing up. Remmy felt honestly jealous of Anneke's 'fuzz'— the affection was clear, even if she'd taken it off of a closed captioning goof on a Fur Fighters music video.
"I'm wondering," Remmy said, "what happened to my shir—"
"Surprise!"
Anneke yanked open the closet's double-doors. Remmy looked out blankly as the aardwolf did a little dance, sliding her back against the adjacent lamp. His big, grey Fleetwood Yak shirt slipped around her slender figure in such a pretty way. He glanced down for a split-second and noticed that she still had on her plain yet cute black panties.
"Oh, honey," Remmy said, scratching his chin idly, "it's—"
"One week down, and we've already ran this little relationship cliche to the ground, haven't we?" Anneke scoffed. She twirled about in place before shoving her arms back into the shirt. "Too bad that you've only been up for putting on my panties twice."
Before Remmy could think up a reply, she tossed the big hunk of polyester onto his head. The ram twisted to the side and knocked a little trash can over; he sucked in a deep breath as he slapped his shirt back on. Anneke immediately produced a plain, dark blue dress and matching top; she took just a few seconds to slide it all on.
"It's not that I've got any complaint kink-wise or even comfort-wise in wearing your stuff—or, hell, even Wolter's freaky stuff— that you keep asking me to try on," Remmy remarked, unsuccessfully trying to hide his reluctance. He stopped to straighten out the wool around his head. How hard it felt to get that under control reminded him that he'd put off getting a good shearing for way too long.
"Well," Anneke muttered, grinning, "you could've fooled me, 'Mr. Adventurous', since I distinctly remember a certain comment yesterday evening about if 'the kink thing was going too fast'... or did my ears deceive me?"
Remmy stepped out of the little room. "Later, alright? Right now, I'm just—"
"Too plump to pump?" Anneke interjected. She slyly smiled as she tapped a paw against his chest and slid it to his belly. "Or... hey, wait a moment since I've got tons of them!"
Remmy rolled his eyes. "Look, I—"
"Too bloated to be blown?" Anneke asked. Remmy's rapid blinking and tense expression just fueled her snark. "Too gross to grope? Too full to fuck?"
"Lamb of God, Anneke, come on."
"You come on!" Anneke chuckled, suddenly seizing his hoof. The aardwolf tugged him right across the apartment. He simply let out a bleat. "It was your idea to engorge yourself because of a measly ten percent off."
"Hey, it's not like it's just a discount sandwich or extra ice or some piddly shit like that! They're sweet potato fries!" Remmy protested. He braced a hoof against a grimy bookshelf and let out a small sigh.
"Next time, don't eat enough for two... or twenty."
Remmy simply sighed. He then silently locked eyes with his girlfriend for a few seconds. Her small yet noticeable smile perfectly matched her pose, with her arms folded and head slid a little bit back.
"I'm the one that's had to play around on my phone for what feels like hours." Anneke tapped on a big digital clock on an adjacent table. "Waiting until you're conscious enough to head to Avo's little shindig. The fries—"
"Still worth it, I promise you," Remmy interjected, "I wouldn't be surprised if I wake up and see ZNN reporting that they're fried in crack cocaine—"
"Really? Nah," she remarked, smirking widely as she leaned her head back even more, "if they'd do that, they'd be spiking the sauce. Probably that gooey orange stuff that sparkles." She poked his chest yet again. "Speaking of getting squeezed out and laid on top of greasy, hot things, are you ready for some more late night partying, fuzz?"
Remmy thought about saying that his girlfriend had run him ragged the past few days— remarking point-blank that he'd rather have a long shower and then a full nap. He pictured telling her that getting ferried place to place, without any free choice on his end, made him the Lhama Lane to her Supermammal. Yet his wide open mouth and blank facial features already said a lot.
Anneke glanced at him, glanced at the apartment's door, and then took a good look down at herself. She shrugged in a we'll-deal-with-it-later way before twisting away from Remmy. The ram took a few steps following her, feeling her slide her tail along his legs, before suddenly shaking.
"Anneke, wait!"
The aardwolf froze— having one paw on the doorknob and other tugging on the ram's shorts. Her expression looked one part frustrated and three parts gorgeously affectionate. Remmy shook his head for a second and brushed his hooves against his cheeks, trying to feel more awake.
It didn't quite work. His senses yelled at him to collapse on the floor right there for another nap or to jump over to the bathroom for a nice, long shower. He couldn't help thinking as well of clutching the sexy aardwolf in a passionate kiss, shoving her to the ground, and then running right past her before she got up— dashing to and then locking himself inside his own apartment in a desperate move for more personal space. All of those thoughts churned through his mind all at once.
"Yes, fuzz, I'm waiting," she remarked. She popped open the door but then gently leaned her head against the wall, crossing her legs. "And I can tell that you want to give this important, emotional speech. Something that sounds profound? Something about how badly you want me but how zombie-like you've felt lately— especially tonight? Am I right?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, fuzz," she went on, sliding one leg against the other, "I'll pretend that you swept me off my paws with your smart yet romantic words."
"Yeah?"
"And I'll give you five minutes of splashing cold water on your face plus another five of sucking down coffee. All that before we leave, and then— when we actually get there— you can be a damn mute. So checked out upstairs that World War III could start on the other street without you noticing, right?"
"Yeah."
"All you've got to do is walk a circle with me on your arm. The hyena's won't give a shit. Avo won't give a shit. Hell, absolutely nobody will give a shit."
"Yeah..."
"Fuzz," Anneke said with a big laugh, "if you're that much of a zombie right now, all have to do for me is grunt."
Remmy let out a soft bleat.
"Fine by me," the aardwolf remarked, slipping a paw against the ram's cheek. When her warm flesh popped up right to his mouth, some kind of pure instinct made him give it a sudden kiss. Her smile grew twice as wide. "You've a great way with words... honey."
The ram's mind felt barely able to think through what he needed to do the following day— let alone prepare some kind of a meaningful 'relationship development stages and you' pseudo-intellectual speech. Mammals always said that kind of crap to each other after their first week, Remmy thought, or so the soap operas always told him. At any rate, she stepped along the kitchen counter right past him and headed to the bathroom.
Remmy hesitated for a second— eyes wandering about the haphazard clumps of knickknacks and baskets with newly laundered clothes that stretched across the living room. He spotted a comically giant mug by the kitchen's collectible Gazelle-edition toaster. The hunk of ceramic probably came from a big hustle— at least, the print on the side saying that it belonged to a Preyda corporate manager hinted as such. It even looked large enough that a rabbit could even use it as a hat. Remmy only had to make a few moves before he had coffee brewing. He shoved two slices of bread into Toaster Gazelle's huge plastic head and took a deep breath.
The short breather before heading out helped. What made the big difference, though, was how wonderfully serene the walk felt from their apartment complex over to the hyena-filled flophouse. The bright moon shining overhead and simple breeze slipping past the two of them made the relaxing moment drag out longer than it had to.
Remmy naturally curled to the right as Anneke curled to her left— her arms cuddling into his thick wool while her breathing gently slowed. It wasn't just his wandering-happy sheep instincts kicking in. He could've enjoyed that kind of simple togetherness for hours, the pair slipping past building after building in an empty part of town.
"Sweet, there it is," Anneke remarked, snapping Remmy from gazing at the sky to staring blankly right in front of them.
The ram said nothing as he stood up as straight as he could. Along a little side street, a reddish-brown clump of bricks stood in between two gangling patches of old trees. The building looked as if a giant monster had eaten up a part of a quarry and then vomited out the blocks in the middle of a closed-down park. He couldn't make out the music playing inside, but the quick beats matched with squeaky noises meant that it had to be trendy as all hell. Remmy slid his head down and locked eyes with Anneke.
The gleeful aardwolf slapped an arm on his back. He awkwardly coughed, a few empty seconds passing, and simply nodded. Anneke immediately pulled him forward and yanked open the tall double-doors. The ram's eyes quickly narrowed at the booming light. However, as he slipped inside, barely moving his own body while she tugged him like a suitcase, what hit him the most was the smell.
He couldn't make out the species of the various predators at first— quite a few of them had fur dyed all over, going for something like a 'goth pimp' aura. Yet their collective odor of concentrated sweat, smoke, snot, and more smacked him like a headbutt. It didn't help that Anneke had crossed over from her cute, cuddling mode to her obsessive, clutching mode— a change that he'd noticed more and more the past few days. She tugged him across the crowded room as she made happy yet snide remarks to mammal after mammal. Remmy nodded when he got nodded to, but that was it as far as social interaction went.
True to the place's reputation, a copious collection of hyenas had crammed into the flophouse. A bunch of them looked like they wanted to yell for the sake of yelling. Quite a few dedicated themselves to hitting on members of the opposite sex— just as often, though, the same sex.
Most of them, however, had gotten sucked into the passionate dancing. Bodies ground against each other constantly, and the bass-heavy music surged across what felt like every square inch of the floor. Booze, Remmy thankfully spotted, got served bottle after bottle by the minute. He couldn't see the kitchen area, nor did he spy any open coolers, but the numerous predators holding up something cold and small boosted his fragile spirits.
Finally, after making a winding curve through the whole floor, Anneke plotted them both beside a particularly gigantic male hyena. The gender flip that his species usually had seemed to have completely passed that predator by. His combination of light blue Meles Meles t-shirt with dark blue— and extremely tight— shorts seemed pretty familiar as well. Leaning against a set of beat-up yet booming speakers, the hyena shot a hungry grin at both of them.
That sort of thing would've unnerved the ram if he'd hadn't gotten so used to those kinds of crowds. Certainly, the freezing cold lager that Anneke had just handed him, something he sipped second by second, helped. Yet after offering up his neck for Al to chomp it in half, if the big wolf had wanted to, Remmy had already faced the absolute worst as far as predatory intimidation went. After all, he thought, his pack had even come to his aid after Bellwether got booked— he was 'in deep', as the aardwolves would say.
Still, it took Remmy a solid two minutes before he realized that the big hyena was hitting on both him and Anneke. Snuggling up against both of them at the same time, the ram had to admit, took some major balls. The aardwolf apparently found the whole situation amusing, although the tired ram barely paid attention. At least, Remmy thought, the guy didn't have to wear a 'I'm Bisexual, You're Confused' shirt like Anneke and Avo's buffalo DJ friend for him to piece things together.
Remmy picked up some crack about how the hyena could probably bench press a refrigerator. He expected that Anneke replied with another comment bragging about the ram's size downstairs. The way that the hyena's eyes lit up was a big clue. Naturally, the shrieking music and never-ending chatter kept the ram awake, but he still, like always, could hardly give a damn about the inane garbage that Anneke's friends blathered on about.
As another downbeat hip-hop tune started, a wine cooler appeared out of nowhere in Remmy's hooves. A silent prayer to the Lamb of God— after all, summoning instant booze was holy canon— followed. He took in a deep sip as he eyed all over Anneke's body. Once again, the aardwolf had positioned the ram against a piece of furniture and nudged limb after limb into his wool— treating him like a portable mattress. Remmy then downed the rest of it. At least, he thought, the occasional cheek kiss and easy refreshments meant that he qualified as a top-of-the-line, premium quality mattress.
A short, overweight fox besides Avo— the wolf loving every moment of serving as the party's DJ— abruptly motioned over to the bisexual hyena. Anneke and Remmy had a moment alone in this particular little corner of the flophouse, and she turned to face him, mouth opening up to apparently ask him something. Yet a pair of minks in matching red dresses hopped right between them. The slender mammals let out some snarky disdain over some way that Zoogle Plus had screwed over some vapid Pack Street entrepreneurs. Anneke got really into the conversation; Remmy stared at the nearby artworks on the wall.
If Marty was around, the ram thought, the little guy might start lecturing the hyenas about early 20th century art deco and the whole backstory to behind these futuristic-looking acrylic pieces. Of course, they were only there because WoolMart promoted the hell out of them as part of this whole interior decoration package five years ago— the paintings flowing through various middle-class houses until they were spat out, probably in some dingy yard sale, into predator paws. He'd totally seen copies of them in his cousin's day-care building.
"Hey, grazer, do you like the music?"
Remmy snapped to full attention. A spotted hyena with a dozen shiny earrings and eyebrows that looked as if they were drawn by hot pink highlighter brushed up Remmy's back. He awkwardly twisted around a little— Anneke still clung to his side like cellophane on a sucker, even if she wasn't paying the slightest attention to him otherwise— and sized up the muscular hyena. He could've sworn that he'd seen the icon on her black and white checkered shirt before. Of course, her toned abs— rough and tight like she could iron a suit on her midriff— was probably the real draw for the party's single guys.
"I don't know," Remmy called out, "I guess?" He hated more than he could put into words how Anneke's circle of friends always wanted to have coherent conversations at their late night events. The even turned into angry little brats if he missed anything— even though the booming noise all around meant that he obviously had to miss half of it, maybe more.
"Really?" She grinned. Her devious expression just screamed 'prey chaser'. To top it off, whatever she'd been drinking had stained her sharp teeth with bright orange.
"Well," the ram began, lowering his voice a little bit, "I don't know if he sounds bored enough. It's like somebody shot him with tranquilizer right before the recording started, but you should never do that kind of stuff half-assed. Maybe the producer could hit him upside the head with a two-by-four. That would really make his dull, low moaning about drive-bys just perfect."
"Oh, yeah," she replied, nodding. They both hesitated for a moment, seeing Anneke whip out her cellphone and start to click through a bunch of apps, before they downed additional drinks.
"You're not actually listening to what I'm saying, and you just like everything coming out my mouth, right? You're just hankering to dominate the living piss out of sheep," Remmy quietly remarked, narrowing his eyes.
"Yes! Sure," she yelled back, turning herself over and leaning up against the side of a couch. Being strong, tall, and wide enough to break him in half didn't change how goofy her whole outfit looked to Remmy— something that seriously damped the 'badass' kind of style her species seemed obsessed with.
"Well, uh, anyways," the ram began, not being in the mood to mess with the oblivious hyena. He raised his voice and met with her eye to eye. "I'm surprised."
"Why?" She leaned back even more, bumping into a clique of small wolves dancing. An idle move of her beefy arm swatted them all away.
"This kind of alternative hip-hop, all of the trap beats and whatever," Remmy went on, "it's really doesn't look like it'd be your thing. You look like you'd be into like Blink-182, Bowling For Soup, the Offspring, SR-71, Yellowcard, and all that."
"God, I love all five of them," she replied, her face lighting up, "that kind of high-energy rock. I should show you that one tattoo, uh, wait a second." She wiggled one of her legs, shooting an arm done to hunt along her thigh. "It's... somewhere."
"Yeah," Remmy continued, "that glossy kind of stuff. You know, the mall punk! Right? That one guy who did the "1985" song has your bangs—"
"You take that back, you little shit!"
The hyena grabbed him by the neck. Remmy shot out a loud, gurgling noise as she hiked his whole body up into the air. His legs wiggled helplessly. He looked down, and he saw Anneke rubbing her face in raw confusion— having gotten knocked off of him onto a nearby table. The hyena's own expression was twisted in white-hot rage.
"Holy Lamb of God," the ram squeaked, "is this just for using the word 'ma—" He immediately cut himself off as sweat poured off his chin. "The, uh, the 'm-and-p' term? Really?"
"How dare you," the hyena mouthed. Her orange-stained teeth looked like a crowd of exotic daggers aimed right for his neck.
"The hell do you think you're doing, bitch!" Anneke called out.
The hyena and ram both slipped their heads straight down. The aardwolf poised her legs by the hyena's knees, looking ready to slam the big mammal right into the nearby table. A few predators hanging out beside them awkwardly stared. Remmy tried his best to think of something profound to say— some excellent quip to kill the moment's tension and bring him back to being just an inanimate party prop— but his mouth just hung open.
"Whoa," the hyena muttered, bringing Remmy down inch by inch until he awkwardly rested atop the table, "easy there." She staggered against the adjacent couch, mumbling something incoherent, and it finally got to Remmy that she'd had one too many. Or, he thought, five too many.
"Why are you even bugging him? What the hell makes you think he's your type?" Anneke stood up straight and narrowed her eyes, her own teeth shown off in the cool lighting.
"Oh, come on, it's not like you or me are on some Goddamn pedestal," the hyena remarked, folding her arms, "I got needs—"
"Needs?" Anneke interjected. She sucked down the last of her red plastic cup before crinkling it to pieces in her paws. "What are you— a freaking flowerpot?" She mimed writing on a refrigerator door. "Note: water twice daily. Very fragile."
"Can you just shut up the hell up, okay?" the hyena growled. She idly kicked the side of the table, causing Remmy to awkwardly slid off of it onto the floor.
"Even if you have a thing for sheep, number one," Anneke went on, clutching the ram's side, "are you so Goddamn dense that you don't see he's with me?" Remmy's head got pressed tightly against her thighs— something that made him instinctively let out a large bleat. "And, number two, what would he really see in—"
"So what!" The hyena put so much emphasis on the 's' that it sounded like steam escaping. Meanwhile, the loud snark brought even more attention, especially given how boring the slow-paced synthpop just starting out felt to the party-goers. "I'm a prey chaser. I admit it. And he's—"
"So you're okay with 'prey chaser' but not 'mall punk'," Remmy muttered under his breath, "the hell is with— no, I don't even want to know what your complexes are."
"He may not be Mr. Right," the hyena triumphantly declared, raising her voice as her arms flew into the air, "but he'll do right now!"
A few smaller hyenas and the occasional fat wolf either nodded or smiled. The hyena felt some impulse to lick her lips, sensing yet another drink left on the couch behind her, and reached over behind herself to seize it. Meanwhile, Anneke's eyes had narrowed into little slits.
"Do you get all of your romantic tips from Minions memes on FurBook?"
A torrent of loud moans sounded off across the entire room. Predator after predator put on gigantic grins. A couple hyenas— species loyalty be damned— even playfully exchanged glances and slapped each other's arms. The punk-looking hyena with the stained teeth and mood-swings simply stood still as a statue— feeling stunned. Avo took the cue and started up a whole new song; the crowd ate that up as well.
"Come on, fuzz," Anneke said as she picked up Remmy's shoulders. The ram didn't even think as he found himself dragged to the side.
"There's burn lotion in the bathroom," the pair of minks remarked. The quickly followed behind Anneke— all four friends heading over to the double-doors out of the place.
"Wait, that's it? We're going, now?" Remmy murmured.
Anneke said nothing for a moment. She simply exchanged a few quiet, quick comments with the minks before tugging the ram up straight. Remmy closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He heard the aardwolf sigh back.
"The hell? This scene is dead, fuzz!"
"Does that even begin to make sense?" Remmy asked, his eyes still shut.
"Huh?"
"Is there some kind of a magical thermometer on the ceiling that says when a party goes from 'living' to 'dead' to 'undead'— or whatever the hell else? I don't get it. If anything, wouldn't you want to stay around here even more— after it looks like the whole damn room loves the snark you're dishing out?"
"Dummy," Anneke let out with a laugh, playfully smacking the ram's shoulder, "she's still a hyena. And this is their turf. They'd come to her aid sooner or later, and next time it'd—"
"Whatever," Remmy remarked, opening his eyes up wide as he marched out the doors, "as long as it's what you want to do— anything's fine. I don't mind. It doesn't have to make sense."
"Past fuzz's bedtime, isn't it," the aardwolf murmured. She hesitated for a few seconds, glancing back at the still raucous party inside the squalid flophouse and exchanging paw signals with Avo. Yet Anneke still slowly stepped off behind the ram.
The late night stars twinkled overhead. Neither of them, though, paid that much attention. They both simply looked off straight ahead and let the gentle breeze blow across their bodies. Heavy as the air had gotten between them, so many things that they needed to get across to each other, Remmy didn't feel like saying much.
"Look," Anneke said, breaking the silence, "fuzz, it's actually pretty important. To know what's going on, right? Put my eyes and ears out there— sometimes, I just can't miss something. I need to stay plugged in."
Remmy brushed a hoof across his face. As the couple made a big circle, heading around a set of plain yet pleasant shrubberies, he took in a breath. Anneke shot him a curious glance.
"Sorry, I'm— honestly, I'm trying not to laugh," the ram said, "you're making yourself sound like an old cellphone. Got to keep that plug close or else it turns into a brick, damn."
Anneke raised a paw, looking as if she prepared to punch him, but she brushed it across his chest instead. While Remmy drifted back to zombie-like marching, Anneke pulled her whole body close. The ram, for his part, thought about how he needed to level with her over a bunch of different issues.
Yet the whole situation felt something like waiting to go to the dentist— a huge part of him wanted to put it off forever. At any rate, it only took the couple a few minutes to head back to their own apartment complex, and they both ventured off to their respective rooms. At least, Remmy figured, their silent goodnight kisses already said a lot.